


Meeting the Master of the City

by kekec_in_rozle



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, First Meetings, Flirting, M/M, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 23:03:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19160794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kekec_in_rozle/pseuds/kekec_in_rozle
Summary: Just what the tittle says. Stiles meets Anita and then somehow ends up in the Master’s lair. Just his luck! Oh and there’s some Jason in there as well for no other reason than he was my favorite.  Enjoy!





	Meeting the Master of the City

I was driving down the highway with the gentle summer breeze delicately slipping through my hair. It was an idyllic evening. For someone anyway, but not for me. 

An hour ago, I was just knee deep in demon viscera, then had barely time to clean up as I got a call to a possible summoning downtown, close to the supernatural district that these days I just call home. Silver lining – after I am done with the crime scene I won’t be far from home. Yippee! These days it’s all about looking at the bright side of things. 

As I pulled out of the highway, I almost immediately noticed the blue and red lights of police cars. A minute later, I was parked just outside the yellow tape and was scanning the abandoned lot in search of Dolph and Zerbrowski. Unsurprisingly they were together, heads bowed and animatedly discussing something. Well Zerbrowsky was, Dolph just had his pinched expression on his face…

Sometimes I wondered about those two and their relationship – despite the fact that they were both married and in love with their wives. 

As I made my way to the dynamic due I nodded to some of the other RPIT officers that were milling around, probably waiting to hear if this was their turf or not. 

“Hello boys, what’s going on here?” I asked in lieu of a greeting, immediately earning their full attention. 

“We have a summoning circle, or something with humanoid sacrifices. Tammy is already examining the scene.” Dolph said as he turned to lead the way. “Stilinski, keep up and try not the loose your lunch.” he called over his shoulder and I noticed for the first time that there was someone else standing with them. He was young, in his early twenties, but somehow seemed even younger and more innocent. I openly stared at him and wondered what was someone like him doing on a crime scene like this. I didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Hey, hey Anita, did you hear the latest news?” asked Zewbrowsky, grinning manically at me… Always grinning at me. “We have new blood! And get this – he requested this post!” he slapped his knee and almost doubled over as he started to laugh like that was the funniest thing in the world. 

The boy sighed and shook his head. Probably wasn’t the first time he heard that line today. He extended his hand to shake mine, but Zewbrowski pushed his arm down as he stepped between us. “And his name oh god his name is Stiles Stilinski,” he hiccupped before descending in another fit of laughter. 

That got my attention. “Your parents named you Stiles Stilinski?” I asked surprised. His high school years must have been hell.

“It’s a nick name. Trust me my real name is even worse.” 

Somehow, I doubted that. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Blake. I heard a lot about you.” We shook hands and I felt the tale-tale wisp of magic where our hands touched. It was faint, but definitely there. My eyes hardened as I reevaluated him. His face screw in a grimace the moment we touched a sure indicator that he had felt my death magic. 

“And I heard nothing about you,” I said. A clear invitation for him to expand on the information, but as before Zewbrowski beat him to it. “He is from a small, God forsaken town in the middle of California here for a year to expand his knowledge. Can you believe it?”

No, I could not. At best, he was another Tammy Reynolds, at worst he was a plant in the RPIT unit. He seemed to have read my mind perfectly, as he sighed again and run a hand through his hear. “I should have listened to my father and stayed home,” he murmured, not really expecting my enhanced hearing to pick it up. 

And speaking of Tammy Reynolds… she was crouched over the summoning circle, studying it with a furrowed forehead. As she heard us approach, she looked up and tried to smile at us despite the gruesome scene in front of her.

“Anita, I didn’t know you were called to this scene,” she said pleasantly, but her eyes told a very different story. She was pissed, pissed that I was once again encroaching on what she considered to be her jurisdiction. Well tough! 

“Tammy,” I greeted her politely. See I can be civil if I have to be. “What do we have here?”

“I would say it’s pretty straight forward,” she turned back. 

The Circle had a perimeter of approximately two meters, its borders inscribed with a sea of strange symbols that even to my layman eye seemed not to belong together. In the center of it were two bodies, well more specifically two halves. A man and a woman cut in half, their upper bodies sewn together at the hips. Their hands spread out, barely touching the white chalk of the edge. 

“A psycho watched too much television and decided to start his own religion. These symbols are all over the place, most of them not even from the same religion. It is just a jumble of nonsense with no communalities. Beside there is no residual energy here. This is not a case for the RPIT unit,” she concluded as she stood up.

I had a limited knowledge of this kind of witchcraft. It was too different from my own brand of magic, but my gut was telling me that there was something else at play. As I glanced around the crime scene to get my bearings, I happened to catch the new guys face and it seemed that he too was in disagreement with Tammy.

Before I could ask him for his opinion, Dolph sent him to interview the bystanders, while Zewbrowsky railroaded me toward the location of the legs. It almost seemed like something was trying really hard to keep me from speaking to Mr. Stilinski. 

I spent the last half an hour looking at the severed bodies and listening to Zewbrowsky’s jokes. Well, what he considered jokes. My eyes, unconsciously, searching for the newest member of the squad. The kid spent most of his time on his phone, even when he was talking to bystanders. The words ‘kids there days’ came to my mind and I quickly chased them away. Jesus, I felt old!

The sun was about to set, when Zewbrowsky was finally called away by one of the uniforms. I quickly made my escape and found the kid talking to one of the werewolves, trying to get information out of him. Tough luck! He would have had more luck making a stone bleed.

Quietly I made my way toward them and stopped just outside of their visual field but close enough to eavesdrop. 

“Come on man, it’s not a tough question. Did you knew the victims or not?” he whined, honest to God whined. I stopped the laugh bubbling into my throat only because I did not want to lose what was going to come next.

“And as I just said to you, I don’t know them,” sighed the were.

“But you saw them before?” I had to give it to the kid. He was persistent.

“I might have, but I don’t recall.” 

“How very political of you.” Stiles took the tip of his pen off his notebook and scratched his scalp with it. That was going to stain. “Look I am not here to entertain you; I have a job to do. Can you at list tell me if the victims were shifters?”

I recoiled. All the mirth I felt before dying a quick and messy death. What was the kid playing at?

“What?” snarled the werewolf.

“You will find that this is another straight forward question. Were they shifters?”

“How the hell should I know?”

Stiles tapped his nose with the pen. “Use your nose, buddy.”

The werewolf glared at him, before a slow and alluring smile spread over his face. He stepped closer to Stiles and inhaled deeply. I was about to intervene when his next words stopped me in my tracks. “Oh but I do, buddy. And do you know what I smell? Werewolves. Lots and lots of werewolves.”

“So I have a couple of friends that are shifters.” 

“Friends, sure. But not only that. Their scent is embedded into yours,” purred the wolf.

“So I have a couple of close shifter friends. I would think that would make you more inclined to help,” said Stiles, keeping his ground.

The wolf took another whiff of the boys scent. “Oh but none of them are local boys, so why should I help you?”

I had heard enough. Stepping out of the shadows, I walked toward them. The werewolf recognized me immediately. He bared his throat to me and took a step back from the boy. Ops, I must have let some of my disappointment shone through my mask.

“Because this is a murder investigation and I am asking.” I showed him my teeth a clear sign that I wanted answers and I wanted them now. 

“Yes they were both shifters.”

I nodded my head and turned to Stiles. “Any more questions?”

The kid looked nervously between us, clearly unable to decide if he should go on. “Any more questions?” I asked again and infused my voice with that something special that made all the shifters in a ten meters radius stand at attention. 

Apparently, the voice also worked on the kid as his back straightened. The confused look on his face would have been almost adorable in any other situation. I would have enjoyed playing with him a little but not now. There was a possible treat to my territory and the kid was holding back information. 

Blinking, he turned back to the werewolf. “Did they both carry the same animal?”

“No. One was a cat and the other a werewolf.”

I frowned not really getting the importance of this information but the kid just nodded and thanked the werewolf for his help, clearly dismissing him.

It was just in the nick of time too as I saw Dolph and Zewbrowsky approaching with the corner of my eyes.

“Well I guess we are done here. We will check some more leads before we pass this to the regular police,” said Dolph, eyeing me suspiciously. “Unless you had something else to add?”

“We just found out that the victims were shifters. Other than that…” I shrugged my shoulders glaring at the kid to keep his mouth shut. Before I brought whatever theory the kid had to Dolph I wanted to make sure it was something appropriate for them to handle. 

“Something else to look into. I guess that now you are going to report it to the big boss?” asked Dolph in distaste. He still couldn’t stomach the fact that I was dating the Master of the City. 

“Well, it involves supernaturals in his territory. It’s kind of his turf.”

“Great!” he scoffed, before turning to the kid. “Stilinski you catch a ride with one of the uniforms back to the station and after you fill in your report go home.”

“Actually,” I intervened. “I can give him a ride back. We are going in the same direction,” which was true… more or less. Stilinski was about to protest but another glare from me silenced him pretty quickly.

“Anita…” sighed Dolph tiredly while Zewbrowsky snickered behind him. “Don’t break him Anita. We just got him and he is brand new. We still want to be able to play with him.”

“I don’t make promises.” I smiled and tugged the kid toward my car. He stumbled at first, but slowly fell in step with me.

Once we were in the safety of my car and half way toward the Circus, he shook his head and sadly looked at me. “We are not going to the precept are we?”

“No, we are not.” There was no point in lying to him now.

“From one to ten how dead am I?” he asked resigned.

“Depends on your answers. Don’t lie and I can guaranty you a safe passage there and back.”

“You are not the Master of the City.” 

“No but I am his girlfriend and left hand.”

“Yes, but you are not him.” 

“Smart boy.” I said. “Keep it up and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“Shit! Shit!” 

As I said. Smart boy.

“Anita please can’t we talk about this? You don’t know me, I get it. You don’t trust me. I get that too. But please for the love of Poseidon couldn’t we just get a coffee together and get to know each other before going to Defcon 1?”

I smiled at him and said nothing as I felt Jean Claude stir in his coffin and curiously probing at our connection. Since we were only a couple of minutes out I filled him in on the new developments while I let out bond flare wide open allowing him to listen in on our conversation.

“I am serious. This won’t end well. Being in this kind of situations makes me nervous and when I am nervous I talk. No harm in that, you would say. Except, I always seemed to piss the wrong person off and I normally end up slammed against a wall – and not in a good way. Well…. No! Not in a good way at all! Are you even listening to me?”

“Shut up!” I snapped not because I was angry with him but because I was seconds away from bursting into laughter. And that wouldn’t do.

“Yes, of course, sorry….” he yelped and went to sit back only to jump back up a second later. “Except no! Not sorry. You see, that just proves my point. If you can’t stomach me for five minutes imagine what your …. erhhh boyfriend? Yeah let’s go with boyfriend. – what your boyfriend will do to me.”

“Stiles,” I tried again but he is a valance rolling down the hill… no stopping him now. 

‘I see you found an interesting one, ma petit.’ Jean Claude sent through the link.

‘Behave, he is little more than a boy.’

‘And yet, you are bringing him to me.’

I pressed my lips into a hard line. He was right. 

“Oh shit and now your face is all homicidal and shit…. Oh God I am a dead man walking…. Even if I survive today I will be equally dead tomorrow when I tell my father that I meet the Master of the City on my first day on the job.” 

He seemed to calm down for a minute, only to start babbling again.

“And then my father will die from a heart attack. Years and years spent managing his diet and conducting weekly raids to find contraband beacon and all that for nothing!”

I kind of get it now why people would smash him against walls. Anything, to make him stop talking.

“Silence!” I used some of my voice and it seemed to do the trick. Now I only hope that it will keep until we reached the Circus.

\---------------------------------

The Circus was busy with the pre-opening preparations. People were running left and right and none of them paid us any attention. 

I had one of my hands on Stiles lower back, just in case the boy decided to turn around and make a dash for it, (which in a room full of predators wasn’t such a great idea) and was guiding him toward the back, where Jean Claude study was located.

Half way there we were met by Jason, which after a single glance and sniff was all over the poor kid. “Hello beautiful, I am here to be your guide into the underworld,” he purred as he took possession of Stiles’ elbow. “Don’t be afraid… it won’t be bad. You might even enjoy it.” He said in a salacious voice.

Stiles looked desperately at me, in search of help. “Jason, play nice.” I admonished him without much heat behind the words. There was a distinct possibility that he was behaving like that on behalf of Jean Claude.

“But Anita I am always nice, aren’t I? And I can be very nice to you too.” Jason inhaled deeply running his nose over the extent of Stiles neck. 

The boys hand shot up to cover the affected area, while he glared at Jason like he had just killed a box full of kittens. 

“A bit of a sensitive area, is it?” asked Jason unperturbed as he sauntered toward the study. “Please follow me.”

I looked from Jason to Stiles and I could feel a frown forming on my face. Something happened between the two just now, something important and shifter related and I had no clue what it was. I hated it when that happened.

‘Do not frown Ma Petit. Everything will be explained shortly.’ 

“It better!” I send down the line and followed the boys into the vampire’s lair.

Jean Claude was sitting behind his desk, Jason sensually lying at his feet. They made a stunning picture, which I suppose was the point of this little scene. Unfortunately for them, it was completely lost to Stiles who was stubbornly staring at his feet.

“Welcome Mr. Stilinski or do you prefer to be called detective?” 

Stiles grimaced. “Stiles is fine and if you wouldn’t mind I would like to know why exactly am I here.”

“But of course Mr. … Stiles.” The name rolled off his tongue like liquid honey making Stiles gasp and take an involuntary step forward. Jean Claude smile of victory soon turned to one of confusion as the boy shook himself loose of the tentative grip JC had on him. 

Through our shared connection I could feel his interest in the boy grow. Sighing, I sent a stern warning in his direction only to have him pout. ‘Ma Petit, you never let me have fun.’

“As for why you are here we both know the answer to that.”

Stiles crossed his arm over his chest in a protective gesture, but when he spoke his voice was strong and even. Brownies for him, even if I doubted that it would help him in this situation. “Okay first of …. That right there was illegal and secondly – no I don’t know why I am here!”

I have to give credit where credit was due. That was some serious brass to call out a Master Vampire in his lair. That or a lot of stupidity. I still wasn’t sure which one was with Stiles. Probably a mix of both. 

 

“I am not sure of what you speak of…”

 

That seemed to only make Stiles angrier. “Can it, dude! We both know that you just tried to whammy me,” he sighed. “Look, I know that you guys have this insane drive to speak in riddles and make everything into a political or economic power play but I am I pretty straight forward guy. So why don’t you just tell me what you want to know and then we can both return to our regularly scheduled lives?”

I expected Jean Claude to get angry, to maybe even attack the stupid boy and looking at Jason he was expecting it as well. But as I prodded our link all I got from it was exasperation and a kind of fondness. ‘You really know how to pick them.’ 

“As you wish…. Ma Petit?”

It seemed that the floor was mine. “What do you know about today’s crime scene?”

Stiles blinked obviously not expecting this question. “Uhhmm … what do you mean?”

I rolled my eyes. “The summoning circle. You didn’t agree with Tammy.”

“Neither did you,” he pointed out. 

“I had a gut feeling.”

“So did I.”

“You knew the victims were shifters.” 

“I suspected. Not a long shot considering the location of the crime.”

“You asked if they carried different animals.”

“Just going with my gut feeling.”

I wanted to scream. Screw that, I wanted to throw him against a wall. He was right. He had that effect on people. From the corners of my eyes I could see Jason watching out exchange like he was at a tennis game, while Jean Claude simply leaned back and was enjoying the show.

“For a guy that considers himself a straight shooter you sure love to take a lot of deviations. Just tell me about the fucking circle!”

“Miss Blake, this is literally my first day on the job. Not the second – the first. The RPIT called an expert that was professionally trained in this kind of things and was on the job for like years. I on the other hand am not trained – professionally or otherwise. All I have are scraps of information that I was able to pierce together over the years.”

I narrowed my eye on him. “So you didn’t want to look what? Bad? Stupid? While potentially other people could die as a consequence of your silence?”

“No, Miss Blake,” he said tersely. “What I didn’t want to do is accuse a professional of being wrong without some kind of theory. Which, by the way, I still don’t have. If I have said something and cited my gut feeling as the source I would have been laughed out of the station and any addition theory that I would came up with, would have been dismissed as an eagerness of a young policeman, eager to make a name for himself.”

He was not… wrong. “Okay, okay can we just get back on topic?”

Stiles was still hesitant to share. “Look we are not the police; we won’t dismiss your theory even if it sounds crazy or improbable. We lived through quite a lot of those ourselves.”

“I could still send you on a wild goose chase that would ultimately lead you to a crazy guy planning to take over the world from the basement of his mother’s house.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

He nodded and started to pace the room. “So the circle…. From what I understand of these things summoning circles are composed of a chalk circle – obviously and some inscription at the border, like the name of the demon, the reason you are summoning it, the intended victim… miss and match, rinse and repeat.”

“Yes?”

“This one had none of it.”

I decided to play devil’s advocate. It seemed to do the trick with this guy. “But it could be like Tammy said. It could be someone that is just doing his own thing and don’t forget that I saw the circle. It was clearly visible.”

“Yes, but what it was made of?”

“What do you mean?”

“I… nothing. Let’s just move on. Can I have a piece of paper and a pen?”

Jason sensually rose from his place on the floor and went to retrieve pad and pen from the closet. When he handed it over he let his hand linger over Stiles’ and waited until the boy looked at him before letting it go. Stiles frowned but didn’t say anything. 

I shook my head. There it was again that shifter … thing and I still didn’t know what it was. ‘Patience, Ma Petit.’ 

Frankly I was tired of being patient. 

Stiles pulled out his phone and tapped on it a couple of times before settling it on the table and starting to draw something on the pad. Curious I glanced at it. 

“That is against the rules.” I hissed as I saw a picture of the crime scene on the display.

“Oh, wanna talk about rules Miss ‘let’s hide important information from the lead detective on the case’?”

“That…” was not really different. I was starting to hate this guy.

“Okay, this is more or less what the circle looked like. Now in my limited completely theoretical experience this circle is split in two halves, which in itself is unusual in summoning.”

“Why is that?” I was truly interested now.

“I don’t know… I guess that you want the structure as simple and as stable as possible? So your focus is concentrated on one thing only and that is to bring something back from wherever…” he waved his hand.

“How can you tell that the circle is split?” asked Jason, sliding in behind Stiles and putting a hand on his hip. His nose found the kids pulse point again and then there was a tongue slipping out and running along his neck line.

Stiles whirled around and grabbing Jason’s hand twisted it behind his back as he smacked his head against the table. “Okay, ground rules! I don’t know what your Boss asked you to do, but it stops now! No more touching, no more sexual harassment and especially no more licking! Did I make myself clear?” asked Stiles pushing Jason further down, talking into his ear.

“Yes, although it’s a little hard to believe, when you are drilling into me,” said Jason, shaking his tightly clad backside positioned directly in front of Stiles’ crotch. 

Stiles yelped and jumped back, like he had been stung while Jason slowly turned around and leaned against the table splaying his legs wide open and shoving off his bulging package. “Jean Claude didn’t ask me to get this,” he moaned, pressing a hand against his erection. “It’s all for you…”

My eyes almost jumped out of my head. What the hell were the two of them playing at here? ‘Jean Claude!’ I hissed at him. Was he trying to feed on the boy?

“Jason I think that’s enough!” admonished JC. “I must apologize for my young friend. He tends to get carried away.” 

“But he smells so good!” protested Jason, looking hungrily at Stiles with hooded eyes. 

And that was new. Jason, although being sexually fluid, preferred girls. I never saw him act like that, not even for a girl. I prodded at the bond I shared with Jason and the resulting lust almost knocked me off my feet. 

“Jesus!” I gasped. 

“Jason why don’t you leave the room and go take care of business? I am sure there is someone willing to give you a hand,” suggested JC, watching Jason slowly leave the room, but not before taking a last long sniff in Stiles direction.

As the door closed, Stiles relaxed minutely, only to glare at me, for some reason. “Is this how you make sure that nothing happens to me?”

Ah, that. “I must apologize for Jason’s behavior, but for some reason his wolf really likes you.”

“Yeah, I noticed. What the hell was that?” he asked, this time addressing JC.

“Well I would have hoped that you would be able to explain it.” 

“Do not even try it! What did you do to us? Him,” he quickly corrected himself, but it was too late, the cat was out of the bag. 

“So you felt it too? Interesting.” 

“Interesting my a….”

“Enough, the both of you! If you have forgotten people are dying out there. You..” I pointed at JC. “…Sit down! And you…” I turned to Stiles. “… split circle. Talk!” 

I saw Stiles gear up for another rant, but I had it with this day. Taking a step forward I pushed some of my energy toward Stiles and as before it had the desired effect on him. He still glared at me, but he started talking, which was the most important thing at the moment.

“Well first of all you have the victims. Even if it isn’t strange that there were two offering, the fact that one of them is feline while the other is canine kind of defies the purpose.”

“Why?”

“It’s just different energies. Cats and dogs are natural enemies in the wild. Putting them together it’s like having a tug a war where both parties are equally strong. Do you follow me?”

I cocked my head, confused. At list Jean Claude seemed to be on top of things. 

“It’s like two people pushing a car in the same direction versus both pushing against each other. In the first example you will have movement while in the second…”

“… contained energy,” finished Stiles. “Exactly.”

“I still don’t get it,” I complained but was begining to see where this was going and I didn’t like it at all.

“It’s not a summoning. It’s a power upgrade.”

I still wasn’t convinced. “And you got all that from just the victims?” Something nibbled at me. “Except no … you asked about the victims because you already noticed that something was wrong… the inscriptions..”

“Din din din. Give the lady a prize.” He turned back to his drawing and started pointing out. “This thing is packed full of contradictions. On top you have Egyptian hieroglyphs and on the bottom Norse runes. One of then was bent on enslaving humans the other tried to enlighten them.”

“Then you get symbols from different civilizations. Like this one for example. This is a Spanish symbol for slaves and on the other side of the circle is the Mayan sign for invaders. You see even the roles are inverted.”

“Yeah, but that still doesn’t mean that the ritual worked,” I protested.

“Also that kind of power is almost impossible to contain. It would tear itself free and disperse in the atmosphere before anyone could absorb it,” commented Jean Claude.

Stiles tapped at the drawing. “Which brings us back to the circle itself.” 

A light went on in my head. “You said at the beginning that it was not made of chalk.”

“No it was not.”

I had enough of this show and tell. “So what was it?”

Stiles shrugged. “This is as far as I got.” 

Which was obviously a lie; he was still hiding something from us.

“Listen you…” but I never got to finish what I was saying, because in a blink of an eye Jean Claude moved from behind his desk and slammed Stiles against the nearest wall. Well, at list the kids’ prediction about how this meeting was going to end ended up being correct. 

“What the…” the rest of the sentence was lost as Jean Claude pushed all the air out of the kid’s lungs.

“Look at me,” demanded JC. “Look me in the eyes!”

Stiles made a valiant attempt to resist the sirens call, but JC had all the power of the triumvirate behind him. He didn’t stand a chance in hell. His body went lax and his eyes opened wide, starring unseeingly into the distance. “What was the circle made of?”

“Battle grade mountain ash.”

Jean Claude palled, if this was even possible, and took a step back, his shock reverberating through the room, making me whine.

“Jean Claude?” I asked, breathless from the shockwave. 

“How do you know?” JC demanded to know, advancing toward a still shaky Stiles. “How?”

“Back off you mind fucking prick!” shouted Stiles, cradling his head. 

Okay, I had enough of this. If JC was so freak out then it’s time to demand some answers. “Someone better start talking, before I pull out my gun!”

In the ensuring silence, Stiles’ phone suddenly started to ring an obnoxious pop song that was popular a couple of years ago. He pulled it out and grimaced as he disconnected the call and then immediately sent a text.

“Your wolf calling?” asked Jean Claud sweetly, already back in control of his reactions.

“No!” snorted Stiles. “But you’ll wish it was if I am not out of here in an hour.” 

“What does that mean?” I wanted to know. If there was a treat here I needed to know about it.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” he said and smirked at me, his smile still a little shaky, but worth a solid B+.

“You a Druid?” asked JC and finally I was getting some information that I could look up.

“God no!” snorted the kid.

“Would I know if you were lying?”

“Is there any point in me answering this question?”

“No, I suppose not,” conceded JC.

They stayed like that, staring at each other (well Stiles was staring at JC nose) and completely ignoring me. Goddamn boys and their inflated ego!

“Enough of that” I stepped between them and directed JC back behind his desk while I turned to Stiles. “What is this ‘mountain ash’?”

“It’s the ash of the rowan tree. In the old times, it was used as a barrier to keep safe from the ‘monsters’, or to keep monsters contained. It doesn’t need any special ability to work. All you have to do is line it in a circle and almost no supe can breach it.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound that bed. Where’s the catch?”

“What Mr. Stiles described to you is your run of the mill ash. Battle grade ash is an entirely different story.”

“Yeah let’s just say that battle ash is like ash on steroids, dunked in speed and powered by a nuclear reactor.”

“So it’s a really powerful ash.” I said, still not seeing the problem.

“To put it mildly. It is able to contain the supernatural equivalent of a five kiloton bomb and you wouldn’t even notice it when it went off.”

“Still not seeing the end of the world scenario that JC’s reaction indicated. Please explain this to me like you would to a five year old.”

“Battle grade ash is rare. It takes an enormous magical power to refine it and even more power to handle it. Therefore, you would have an insanely powerful magic user on your hands. That’s one problem.”

“Are there more?” a sighed, getting a headache. This day just keep getting better and better.

“Normal ash is weaker then battle ash, but it is still powerful enough to contain a lot of power. For them to have used the other one …. The amount of energy they harvested must have been enormous. Much more than a human or shifter body could withstand.”

“So what you are saying is that it’s a vampire?” 

“Probably. Lot’s of space to put all that power. Although a fey could also absorb it. But let’s face it, the fey are already incredibly powerful and taking in that kind of raw juice would hurt like a son of a bitch. A lot of hassle to acquire something that he would not even be able to bring with him to the Never-Never.”

Jean Claud and I exchanged a look, both of us thinking the same thing. “Shit!!!”

“What?” asked Stiles worried, “What it is?”

When neither of us responded, he collapsed against a wall. “Guys, tell you didn’t piss of an insanely powerful fey lately,” he begged.

It was JC, that finally answered him. “No. At list not lately.”

I watched as Stiles exploded into a hysteric laughter. It was a real spectacle and it went on for almost five minutes. I was somewhat impressed. When he finally got himself under control, he wiped the tears from his eyes and sighed. “We are all so dead.”

I turned to Stiles for more information, but he was already shaking his head. “Which part of not an expert did you not get?” he asked. 

“It seems to me that even without a formal training you are doing okay.” I noticed.

“Yes, that’s because I reached out to some of my contacts and have been gathering information, while you were traipsing around the crime scene with Zewbrowsky,” he shouted, brandishing his phone in the air.

“Well then ask them how do we track and kill this thing!” I shouted back, my last nerve dangerously close enough to snapping.

“Don’t you think that was the first thing I asked them?”

“And?”

“I was working under the assumption that you pissed off an old vampire not fucking Tinkerbell! A vampire with this much power remained a vampire. A fey with unlimited power? They could do anything. Literally. Want a devastating tornado? No problem. What was that? Earthquake that would wipe the entire city from existence? Sure why not!”

I listened to him with growing horror and the realization that maybe this is it for us. JC was not faring much better. Time to take control.

“Stiles keep digging. JC…”

“Hey, hey stop! Since when did I agree to work for you?”

“The moment you started digging into this case and keeping it quiet from Dolph.” 

“That was all theoretical. I didn’t sign up to die a horrible and probably painful death.”

“Look just provide us with information, that’s all we are asking.”

“Yeah, because that is how it always works out…”

“Stiles, why did you become a cop? Why came here?”

“I already told you. This is a hot spot for supernatural activity. I came here so I can learn as much as I can about it and then return home.”

“But why do you need this information?”

“Nous protegeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se proteger eux-memes. We protect those that can not protect themselves.”

“The Argent moto,” whispered Jean Claude.

“Yeah the new one,” smiled Stiles.

“You are part of the McCall / Hale pack,” whispered JC, a little bit in awe. 

“Still pack adjutant. I don’t have to report to the local pack until I join the pack fully.”

“That you don’t,” said JC, with a speculative look in his eyes.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear. Do something that would sever my temporary bond with my pack or force another bond on me and you will not have to worry about the fey. Because I will end you.” 

He raised his gaze for the briefest of moments and stared directly into Jean Claude’s eyes. It was laughable. David against Goliath. But in that moment I believed him. Than the moment was gone and Stiles shrugged his shoulders to alleviate some of the tension. 

“I will keep looking into this. Not because I like you, but because I hate innocent people getting hurt. Once this is done and if we are still alive, we will go our separate ways. I will still work with Anita on cases if I need to, but that will be the extent of my involvement with you. We clear?”

“But of course,” purred Jean Claude. 

No one in the room believed him.

Stiles sighed again and turned to leave, throwing a parting good-bye over his shoulder. “And Anita? Try to keep your vampire on a shorter leash. I wouldn’t want for his hair to turn green.”

I could feel Jean Claude bristle at the table, but I didn’t care. Frankly, he deserved it. The annoyance soon turned to glee and excitement. 

“Jean Claude, leave him alone.”

“But of course Ma Petit. One problem at the time.”

I wanted to admonish him again, but he was right. One problem at the time – and we have one in front of us the size of Texas. JC’s strange fixation with Stiles could wait till a later date.

**Author's Note:**

> That’s all folks! The end.
> 
> This story idea suddenly bit when as I found an old copy of Anita Blake lying under my bed while watching Teen Wolf. It had strong teeth and wouldn’t let me go until I wrote it all down somewhere. Now the story is done and I can return to my ‘normal’ life. But if someone wanted to adopt this idea and run with it – please do so.


End file.
